


You Got The Salt And I Got Me An Appetite

by angelwriter



Category: British Actor RPF, Good Omens (TV) RPF
Genre: Backstage, Behind the Scenes, Friends to Lovers, Hot, Kinky, Lust, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Thighs, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 08:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21407398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwriter/pseuds/angelwriter
Summary: "I love you, David. You know that."I smiled, my eyes annoyingly becoming wet. "Okay. Okay. Enough with the sap. Let me fuck your mouth like I mean it."
Relationships: Michael Sheen/David Tennant
Comments: 4
Kudos: 90





	You Got The Salt And I Got Me An Appetite

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my sibling AJ who was the first person to read this and I asked her to beta it. 
> 
> She sent me a voice note with feral screaming and squeals that sounded something like "holy shit share this masterpiece!" 
> 
> Thank you for the support, darling. This is for you. ❤
> 
> * 
> 
> AJ's Twitter: @penguiqueen   
AJ's AO3: Chaoticsoul 
> 
> Check out her amazing fics, too!

I have written car sex and tent sex. For my next trick, I will have Michael thrusting David up against the wall, trying to be quiet behind the scenes. This will be set in the time of when Michael was filming Prodigal Son. I feel like I want to do more "themed fics" with the two of them and set in time periods in their lives. 

So I hope you enjoy more fics to come ;) 

For some reason I am finding it easier to write in David's POV. This will also be in David's POV. 

The title comes from Medicine by Harry Styles. It was a song he sang live, but never produced an EP version, for which I am still upset about because I really rather enjoyed that song. Lyrics are quite appropriate for this fic, mind you. Feel free to read up on it.

Thank you for all your wonderful comments on my last fic. 

____________

I was in America for business and work. I had been doing cons and interviews around America and I hadn't seen Michael in a few weeks. I knew he was filming here close by, a TV show called Prodigal Son. Michael was playing a serial killer who wore a grey cardigan and had a trusting smile. He was good at that; acting all cuddly and sweet but he had a dark side. Michael was a kind, joyous soul with radiance and beauty, but Michael was also naughty, teasing, who swore like anything and made you weak at the knees. Michael knew when he had you and he would use that to his advantage. 

I texted him a few minutes ago and he sent me the address of the location. I told the guards that I was visiting a friend, was let in and found my way to the film site. My hands were sweaty for some reason, the heat of the afternoon splaying on my back as I tried to find the correct building. I ran my hand through my hair and fixed my button up shirt, opening the top few buttons. I finally found the entrance and I walked into the cafeteria area where they gave you doughnuts and coffee. I had my fair share of long hours with little food to keep me going, but these looked promising. I took my phone out of my pocket and sent Michael a missed call to let him know I was here. A tall man came in wearing a suit and I recognised him as one of Michael's co-stars. Wasn't that Tom Payne? 

"Hi. Are you lost or something?" His striking blue eyes met mine. 

I felt awkward, didn't know where to put my hands. "Uh. Yeah so like me to look lost. I am actually wanting for a friend." 

The door opened again and Michael came through in his white prison outfit. His curls were messy and there was a happy glint in his eyes. My chest warmed at the sight of him, my cheeks flushing slightly as Tom looked between us. He didn't expect anything. Why would he? Michael smiled brightly at me. 

"Hullo David. This is Tom. He plays my son on the show." 

"Hey," I said in an official greeting. 

Tom gave me a look over. "Aren't you that guy that played in Doctor Who? And that Detective in Broadchurch?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, that's me." I smiled shyly. 

"Awesome. Well, I will leave you guys. See you later, Mr Sheen." 

Once he left, my shoulders relaxed. Being alone with Michael was comforting. Natural. 

"Mr Sheen?" I teased. 

"Yes. He has respect that man. Lovely guy. Attractive too." 

I chuckled. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The cardigan was still on, the texture soft and the same colour as a shade of his hair and beard. He looked good in the outfit and I asked him what was it like being tied up. 

Michael smirked mischievously. "That is the best bit. I liked being chained up. It's exciting, I think I should get myself a pair of my own...for personal use. Don't know when last I did that." 

I swallowed. "Did what?" 

"Kinky things." 

My neck began to heat up, my breathing quicker while my thoughts went places it probably shouldn't. Of course Michael Sheen was a kinky bastard. He stepped closer and my stomach dropped and prickled with nerves. 

"Hm." Michael hummed and bit his lip. "I missed you, David. How have you been?" 

"Good." My voice was lower and shaky. 

He had an effect me and he wasn't even trying. He knew this. He always did. He made a move towards me and I allowed him to pull me into his arms which to anyone else would see like a harmless hug. Michael's strong arms crushed to his chest and I rested my head on his shoulder. He placed his hand on the back of my neck, creating soothing circles on my scalp. I meted into him with a soft sigh. He quickly kissed my neck; a kiss that said he missed me as he breathed in my scent. It was tender. Honest. He kissed me again this time square on my jaw and this one spoke of longing and want. He lingered his lips further along my skin until my face was in front of his with his lips hovering above mine. He kissed me gently, sweetly. I love you. 

"David," his voice was filled with emotion. 

I shivered as I felt myself grow hot as he ran his fingers up and down my sweaty back, the material of my shirt clinging to my skin. He teased my shirt up and placed his warm hand on my bare hip. I murmered something incoherent as he plunged his tongue into my mouth, fisted his one hand into my hair and grabbed the other on hip pushing me backwards until I hit the wall behind me. I gasped into his mouth. 

"Michael! What if someone sees?" 

"They are filming. No one is here. I am done for the day." 

He grinded himself into me. My hands gripped his shoulders, my head hitting the wall hard when he placed his thick thigh in between my body and pressed his knee against my growing erection. Oh. My. God. I missed this. I missed his taste on my tongue. The feel of his needy hands all over my body. His breaths hitting my ear. I rolled my hips up to meet him and moaned at the delicious friction. Those thighs were just what I needed to grind myself on. I was desperately hard and my mind was racing with every dangerous thought I could think of. I wanted Michael here. Now. 

"Please fuck me here." 

Michael furrowed his brows, his green-blue eyes flickering in surprise and delight. He licked down my collarbone and his hands came to unbutton my shirt. 

"Are you sure about that, David?" He kissed down my chest and his hands travelled over my abdomen, his index and thumb swirling once over my nipples and gave it a teasing squeeze. I shuddered and bit into my cheek to keep from being too loud. 

He whispered hotly into my ear, "I dont carry any lube on me. I will have to go in raw, use my spit. It'll hurt. Do you still want that?" 

I gave it some thought. I knew the risks. I knew what I was getting into when I began my relationship with Michael and I trusted him with my entire being. I nodded my head, kissing him to confirm once again. 

"Yes, please! I need you now. I don't want to wait to go to the hotel or whatever. Now. It's okay, Michael, I know you can never hurt me." 

Michael breathed in deeply and understood. I could feel his body shiver at the realisation, the thrill racing through his veins of what we were about to do. I tasted his want at the back of my throat that equally mirrored mine. I pulled him closer to me and kissed him until my head spun. His hands feverishly raked down my sides with his nails before stopping at my jeans. He unbuckled my belt, his hands skimming over the bugle in my skin-tight jeans. 

"I want to taste you before I fuck you if that's okay with you?" 

I moaned in response. Like I was going to say no to that. He shimmied me out of my jeans, muttering once again about how difficult it was to get off. I smiled, leaning my head against the wall and looked up. In this moment where Michael had dropped to floor on his knees while pulling out my cock, I felt strangely peaceful. It was an odd sort of feeling when his hot breath was near me and he was two seconds away from sucking me off. Still, I felt content. I guess it came from trust and the love I had for him. I had known him almost all my life. A few decades of understanding each other and growing together. That kind of relationship was hard to come by these days. I was thankful for him. 

My hips canted forward ripping me out my pleasant thoughts. Michael sucked softly and swirled his tongue on the underside of my dick before pulling away. I started down at him. His eyes were dilated beautifully, his lips red and wet with his salvia, his curls sticking up in all directions where my hand was fisted in it. Oh, he looked gorgeous beneath my feet. Fuck. 

"You were thinking just now," he said causally, drawing lazy patterns on my inner thigh muscles as he spoke. "What's on your mind?" 

I sighed. "Nothing. Just you and me. I love you, Michael." 

Michael stopped what he was doing and met my eyes. He could hear the seriousness in my tone. It wasnt the first time I said it. I said it lots of times for many years, I wasn't about to deny it, especially to him. We had been apart for long periods of time while working. These two weeks were no different. Except it was. After Good Omens PR was completed and I had to go film my other jobs, I felt empty without him.

Being with him like that in interviews was something else. I had never really had that opportunity before. The world kept us apart until now. Sure we found ways and ended up auditioning for a lot of things together. (Probably an excuse to go for a drink afterwards and catch up). But I truly missed him. I think it was worse now that we knew what this was. We always knew how we felt way back when we did the one and only other film together. Michael was fantastic in every way and I loved his company and sparky personality. And fuck me, if I didn't fall in love with him. It was certain for me, but you know how life was. He had girlfriends. I had....sort of girlfriends that I was more of flirting with women on set than anything else. 

We knew what we meant to each other through all of that. Through the PR stunts and the hidden jokes we made, the way we were with each other that only now came into being because we actually were in the same interviews and panels and such. No one knew how we were because they never saw us. And I couldn't even begin to describe how or why things were what they were now. I couldn't even make anyone understand what this was or what our love story was, or how we loved each other. It really wasn't for anyone else to understand. Michael knew and believed what I knew and believed. That was all that really mattered. 

"I love you, David. You know that." 

I smiled, my eyes annoyingly becoming wet. "Okay. Okay. Enough with the sap. Let me fuck your mouth like I mean it." 

He groaned and fitted me all inside his mouth. The warmth and the wetness had me nearly undone with just one suck. He was exceptional skillful with his expert licks and suction of his mouth. And God, the way he teased me with his hands running all along my body, just taunting me with his finger closer to my hole. Fuck, I wasn't going to last long. The sounds of him breathing heavily through his nose, the slick obsence noises, the grunts at the back of his throat as he deep-throated. I could barely open my eyes, but when I did the effects of it were earth-shattering. 

"You look so fucking sexy like that," I murmered with a deeply wanton voice. 

He pulled away with a smirk, his voice just as wrecked as I felt. "So do you. Your hair sweaty on your forehead, that sinful mouth hanging open, your eyes shut. You look so fuckable, David. I am going to make a right mess of you now." 

Quick as The Flash, Michael undid his outfit pants and pulled his thickened cock out, stoking himself in front of me. He brought his hands to his mouth and spat salvia onto it. He worked himself slick before placing three of his fingers into my mouth. I sucked on it leisurely, wanting to draw the feeling out although I knew we were pressed for time. The idea that anyone could walk in at any moment only made me more excited, the adrenaline rush soaking into my veins. Once it was lubricated enough, he slipped the first finger easily inside. I bit into my cheek at the feeling of him stretching me. That pleasant burn made my stomach twist. He added the other two, working his fingers around me to make space for himself to slide in. 

"You ready, darling?" 

"Yes! Please! Need you..." I huffed, bracing myself with my hands on his shoulders. I hiked my leg up (my foot still clad in a quirky long orange sock) to hook into his waist.

He slid inside me so perfectly that my whole body went slack at the feeling of him all around me. He was all around me, consuming my senses. I realised that no one could get as close as I was to Michael. They could have his body, but that would never have this. This was only for me. He loved me which made it potent, his need and desire for me fuelled by the depths of his love for me. He held me tightly to him, fitting his head into my neck. He kissed me along my jaw, nipping at my collarbones as he rolled his hips.

He was making poetry out of us. Michael and I had this beautiful coordination. It was something that rarely happened. You know you could have sex with many people, different people of various skills and talents, they could be everything you want sexually. They could know just how to pleasure you. It wouldn't be the same as with someone you merely like, or are attracted to. Love was the very bond and building blocks of sexual intimacy. We weren't fucking against the wall. Even though it looked like something out of a porno we had watched once. He pressed me up against the wall and rammed into me at a fast pace. He wasn't simply fucking me. 

Michael was expressing, elaborating, describing, and writing how he felt into me. Which each thrust, every touch and desperate moan into my ear, he was spilling his emotions into me. Love and lust and a thousand other things all rolled into one and it punched me straight in the heart. This wasn't sex. It was naked poetry. 

Michael was kinky. Fuck, the world had no idea what that man got up to. I knew all of him. And there was still more I needed to learn. He had me in every conceivable way he had imagined in his mind. He would have me still. Always in fact. Sex had grown tiresome for me. Not with Michael. Never with him. I had an appetite for all he had to give me and fuck it, if I was ever going to be full. When you were with Michael in his presence, there was no way you were ever going to not be starving for more.


End file.
